


Red and White

by Janie94



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Past Violence, References to Depression, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 14:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10664262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Janie94
Summary: The world is tinged in white. Robert lets himself fall onto his back, right onto the frozen ground, surrounded by coldness and white. It is beautiful. But not perfect.





	Red and White

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a story I had in mind when I woke up today, but I've been struggling with writing for the last few days now and I simply let my thoughts float. This is the result and it was kind of liberating for me. I would be very grateful if someone could let me know his or her thoughts because my latest works have been met with mostly silence and I don't know if that is supposed to tell me something.

 

 

_**Red and White** _

  
Red and white. A stark contrast.

He has been staring at it for an hour now, at the white tiles of the showers and his red Poland jersey and shorts on the ground, soaked in water.

Robert is still naked as he sits there unmoving, his body trembling from the long time he has been sitting there under the spray of cold water. He feels so drained and only wants to close his eyes and go to sleep, but he can’t. Not yet.

_Not in public, Lewy. At home where no one can see it._

The words of his former friend return to his mind, urging him to stand up and get dressed just like they have done for the last twelve years. He can barely tear his eyes away from the white tiles, not until he has thrown the red jersey out of sight. Without it the white seems a lot less magical, a lot less fascinating.

He hurries out of the room, deciding to leave his car behind because he knows he can’t drive back to the hotel in his current state of mind. It is just around the corner anyway and so he decides to walk by foot, enjoying the cold breeze and the soft snowflakes on his cheeks while he keeps walking with his hands shoved into his pockets. 

It is in the middle of March, but it is still snowing.

Robert likes the drops of the purifying rain as well, but there is nothing more beautiful than the snow on a cold winter’s night. He smiles as he takes a look around and finds the street covered in a thin layer of white.

It is breathtaking.

Robert changes direction then, heading for the park in the middle of the city rather than the hotel the Polish NT is staying in. By the time he has reached it, his teeth are chattering from the cold because his hair was still wet when he left and is now turning to ice. And he is only wearing a thin jacket, but he doesn’t care, shrugging it off and throwing it to the side so that he is only wearing a short sleeved shirt.

The world is tinged in white.

He lets himself fall onto his back, right onto the frozen ground, surrounded by coldness and white. It is beautiful. But not perfect.

Robert frowns and he takes a quick look around, but there is no one here at this late hour.

… _where no one can see it._

No one can see him here. He smiles as he reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out the razor blade. It is warm because he has been clutching it ever since he put on his clothes and he carefully places it onto the scar on his left wrist.

It has been a while since he has last done this. He was fine and there was no reason for him to hurt himself when he was feeling this good. But tonight is different. He has not played well, but that is not what makes him feel horrible. It is the way he let it out on his teammates after the game.

Robert was shouting at them and blaming them for their loss. And it threw him back to that time when he had still been playing for Delta Warszawa, that one time he had argued with his captain and blamed his teammates for them losing an important match.

_A good player never blames his teammates for his failure, Lewy._

He  _did_ blame his teammates tonight.

_Seems like you think you’re so much better than the others, but you know what? You’re not. You’re not better, you are pathetic._

Pathetic. 

He can’t stop the memory of a fist hitting him in the face, of his sixteen year old self tumbling to the ground, clutching his nose as red blood dropped onto the white tiles of locker room. He had curled into himself as the action was followed by a kick to his stomach. Then another one as one of his teammates joined in…

Robert pushes until the blade cuts his skin and the sight of bright red on the pale, vulnerable skin of his wrist finally ends the memory.

He smiles at the relief and slowly he raises his arm a few inches, watching the line of blood extending over his lower arm until it reaches his elbow where it finally drops to the ground. 

Robert has no idea what is more beautiful, seeing the lines of red on his skin or watching the snow soak up his blood greedily.

He cuts deeper the next time, watching rivers of crimson gushing out of the wound and painting the white snow with splashes of red.

It is beautiful. Perfect.

And finally Robert allows himself to drift off into sleep, giving in to exhaustion and let his world of white and red turn black…

 

When the world eventually brightens again, Robert isn’t lying on the frozen ground any longer. His body doesn’t feel numb from the cold and he is lying on something soft, most likely the mattress of a bed. A hospital bed judging by the strange scent in the room as well as the beeping of machines beside him.

“Lewy?” a familiar voice calls him and Robert feels confused at how much it is shaking. “Are you awake?”

Suddenly there is a hand on his palm and Robert flinches at the unexpected touch until he hears a second voice, one that has brought him back from the darkness of unconsciousness several times before. 

“Lewy, you need to open your eyes. Kuba is here.”

Robert’s eyes flash open at that and he finds Wojciech leaning over him with a sad expression and red eyes. He isn’t crying but he looks like he wants to, something that surprises Robert because Wojciech has found him like this a few times already. The last time was almost two years ago but still.

Robert turns his head to the side and finds someone else sitting at his bedside, the first voice he heard. He doesn’t know what is worse: That Jakub knows about his weakness now or that there are tears streaming down his cheeks.

Robert swallows hard and looks back at the face still hovering above him. “You told him? You promised you would never tell a soul!”

Wojciech leans back. “No, Lewy, I didn’t tell him. Kuba was the one who found you and I couldn’t possibly lie to him after what he saw and what the paramedic said.”

Robert closes his eyes. He has never gone that far where he needed a paramedic. His friend’s voice softens when he adds, “What happened? You said you had it under control, that you have stopped hurting yourself.”

“That was true,” Robert replies and he feels ashamed for having let Wojciech down, the only person who has always stood by his side. “But I was so angry and frustrated tonight and let it out on my team. And just like that I was in the same headspace again. And I couldn’t stop.” He bites his lip before opening his eyes again, feeling Jakub’s eyes on him. “Woj, can you leave us alone for a moment?”

His friend nods and gets up, squeezing his shoulder once before he leaves the room. It is silent for a long moment before Robert dares to look at Jakub again, expecting to find seething anger or disgust there.

But the expression in Jakub’s eyes is raw and pained. “I didn’t know, Lewy, I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t know what?” Robert asks gently and he reaches out with his bandaged arm until Jakub takes his hand and sits down beside him on the bed. “Didn’t know about me hurting myself? Well, how could you? I was doing my best to hide it and no one besides Woj knew about the truth.”

“I’m sorry,” Jakub repeats and he clutches Robert’s fingers tightly. “For all the times I hurt you with my words. I know I can be hotheaded and harsh sometimes.”

“You never were harsh to me,” Robert argues softly. “Just because you express your emotions differently doesn’t mean I can’t deal with it. I oftentimes find your brutal honesty relieving.” When Jakub frowns, he adds, “Sometimes I don’t know what it is that I’m feeling. It is nice to be around someone who expresses his emotions so openly like you do.”

Finally Jakub’s mouth quirks upwards into something akin to a smile.

Robert sighs and he reaches up with his free hand to stroke down the side of Jakub’s face. “Please don’t feel pity for me or feel sorry for something that is not your fault. It has nothing to do with you.”

Jakub tilts his head to the side and leans into the touch. “I know. That doesn’t change the way I feel though.”

He shifts his position, stretching out next to Robert with his head pillowed on the younger man’s chest. It feels strangely intimate but Robert can’t bring himself to say something. Instead he pulls Jakub tighter against himself, inhaling his scent and letting the warmth of his body soothe him before closing his eyes and falling back into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think of this story. Feedback is highly appreciated.


End file.
